Cray- Cray Collie

This is my dog. He's got an interesting story, one that takes a bit of time to tell, but it makes him who he is.

We got Walter the summer I turned 10. I had begged (and begged, and BEGGED) my dad to let us get a dog for a long time. He finally relented, and we looked into rescue dogs.

I searched collies, basset hounds, german shepherds, everything. And then I found a Border Collie rescue pretty close to my house.

And then...

I found Walter.

He just... I don't even... I just felt like he was for us. And I hadn't even met him. I had just seen a picture, and read some background info on him. 

And yet, I felt like maybe he was meant to be with my family.

So, we set up a date to go meet Walter and his foster family, and it was pretty neat. Other than the fact that, ya know, the dog wouldn't get anywhere near any of us.

It was almost like he was afraid of us.

Oh! Whaddya know? He was.

Turns out, Walter had been badly beaten by some guy, and then dropped off in the woods somewhere.

Who can blame him for cowering under the couch?

But, everybody fell in love with the dog that obviously was NOT in love with us.

So. We got the dog. He'll come around right?

Yeah, well.

The morning after my 10th birthday party, his foster family came and dropped him off at my house. 

Then they left.

And no one knew what to do with the dog.

Can't touch him. The dog won't eat. The dog won't drink. The dog doesn't want to sit. The dog doesn't want to lie down.

Hence, he paces.

And paces. And paces. And paces. Like a shark, circling. 

For hours. 

The next day, when the collie still hadn't eaten, or slept, or drank anything, I start to panic.

See, for everyone who knows me, there's really only two words to describe me: Control Freak.

And, this dog situation? Totes out of my control. 

So, I drag the dog in my room (picture 10 year old me dragging a full size border collie who's scared to death of me. Yeah, it was a blast, thanks for asking.) and soak the dog food in water. (it brings out the smell. Don't ask how I know this.) The smell was enough to get him to eat, and so the eating/drinking problem was solved.

So, the next night I left to go to VBS in high hopes. I had a dog! Sort of.... more like a catdog.

That lasted for about three hours. Cause then the dog got out. 

Turns out, my dad went to grab the leash, but accidentally opened the door first, and Walter bolted. He was gone. I'm pretty sure he turned around and stuck his tongue out too.

My mom and dad stayed out on the porch all night, waiting to see if he would come home. He was over in the woods  and we knew it.

But he wasn't coming back.

We called his foster mom. And she managed to get him out of the woods with a piece of ham. I tried not to be jealous. (Of the fact that she could get him out of the woods... not the fact the dog got ham... that would just be weird.)

Over the years, Walter has gotten used to our crazy family. He still doesn't like strangers, and he still shies away from hands coming too fast to pet him, and he's still really strange.

But, normal's over rated anyways.